Tomatoes, salad, sausage rolls,
on a plate made in China near
cubed sandwiches with salmon paté
packed with beef and horse radish,
in containers from that mainland
where most household items are made,
spread across the wooden table, made
somewhere nearby. I can see it in the style
of the wood, and the quaint wooden seats.
The rustic look, found in many a rural
District in European countries. But this
is an American experience so the table
and setting are slightly different.
The meat, sandwiches and salads almost
the same. Spread neatly across a wooden table,
With lager, freshly squeezed juices of oranges
and cranberry. Bags of ice from Publix if you’re in the
area. Never knew why it’s called that. Near puberty.
Near adulthood and garden fetes than a park lunch.
Not made in China. The quality as good. The food
outstanding. Who can resist a noodle salad with
prawns or as they say shrimps? Shrimp fishing.
The cool fresh water shrimps in those country lakes
in the Caribbean may not be the same. But the outcome
remains the same. The memory stays. Along with the
gnats and green flies. Everywhere. The food goes and
so does the day. The day turns to dusk and the wooden
table and seats remain where they can be seen.
(c) nature thoughts nw